


Outrunning Her Life

by Elinie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Auror Hermione Granger, F/M, Post-Hogwarts, References to Drugs, References to Illness, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28916586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elinie/pseuds/Elinie
Summary: “How do you do that, Auror Granger?” Wilkins scratched the bridge of his nose, twisting the unlucky poor fellow."What exactly?" Granger frowned. “I don’t waste time thinking about what will happen if I lose, Joe, I just keep going,” Hermione snapped and, turning on her heels, Apparated away. After seven years of her service in Auror's department, she grew tired of the complete adoration of Joe Wilkins, who entered the department just when she was ready to give up everything, put Crookshanks in a carrier, and go to India to deal with primordial magic, and stop giving a damn about anything. The recruit was attached to her for practice, and somehow unnoticed by Hermione, they managed to become good partners. Joe was a slightly naive, loyal, optimistic, and skillful magician who looked at her with undisguised admiration. While the rest of her colleagues, at the sight of Hermione, preferred to draw protective runes in the air, and they did not call her otherwise than the Mad Fury. Well, Auror Granger had always been partial to praise.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

Leading Auror of the department, Hermione Granger pulled back her robe and, throwing her wand aside, simply stuck the troublemaker in the eye with silver brass knuckles. The wizard was so taken aback that he dropped the artifact, which he brandished like a caveman with a club, and grabbed his face.

  
While the criminal, who imagined himself to be the next Voldemort, tried not to howl from pain, Hermione tore the artifact from his fingers and, without looking, threw it to his assistant:

  
"He's yours, Wilkins. Take him to the interrogation room, Harry deals with him further. Put the artifact on my table. Bring potions to Snape for analysis. And tell everyone that I'm absent until Wednesday."

  
“How do you do that, Auror Granger?” Wilkins scratched the bridge of his nose, twisting the unlucky poor fellow.

  
"What exactly?" Granger frowned.

After seven years of her service in Auror's department, she grew tired of the complete adoration of Joe Wilkins, who entered the department just when she was ready to give up everything, put Crookshanks in a carrier, and go to India to deal with primordial magic, and stop giving a damn about anything. The recruit was attached to her for practice, and somehow unnoticed by Hermione, they managed to become good partners. Joe was a slightly naive, loyal, optimistic, and skillful magician who looked at her with undisguised admiration. While the rest of her colleagues, at the sight of Hermione, preferred to draw protective runes in the air, and they did not call her otherwise than the Mad Fury. Well, Auror Granger had always been partial to praise.

  
“I don’t waste time thinking about what will happen if I lose, Joe, I just keep going,” Hermione snapped and, turning on her heels, Apparated away.

  
Wilkins could only follow her example.

Hermione landed in a dark corner of some seedy London gateway. Where she pulled off her dark blue robe, hid it in her backpack, changed her heels to sneakers, and went for a walk around the nightly city.

  
She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to stay in the department and wait for Harry to finish his interrogation. After a hard day, Hermione dreamed of a liter of scaldingly hot coffee, perhaps, a relaxing bath. She wished she ban her thoughts about the soreness of her hand smashed against a criminal, about her three-month debt for electricity, and her parents' invitation for Christmas. Who needed Christmas anyway?

  
Hermione snorted and lured the stray cat closer to scratch behind the ears. Crooks would be jealous, but he would forgive her. As Harry once forgave, when she left Ron on the eve of their wedding and announced to everyone that she was leaving for Australia.

  
There was a huge scandal with reproaches, insults, and contempt. Poor Ron could not understand why his so kind and always understanding girlfriend suddenly changed her mind about becoming Mrs. Weasley and left her usual routine for adventures? Hermione did not condescend to lengthy explanations and simply disappeared from England for six months.

  
She quite settled in Australia, she even rented a house near her parents, who, after the returning of their memories, did not want to return to Mother Britain and still did not trust their own daughter too much. Hermione set up a garden of poisonous plants and amused herself by inventing experimental potions and sending samples to Snape, inviting him to guess the purpose of potions or tinctures. She corresponded with him from the very end of the war. He did not mind, and everything was fine. Until one Christmas day, he showed up at her doorstep, pounding on the door with his fist and swearing terribly. Hermione had never remembered her former professor using such words before.

  
“Granger, we're going home. I'm tired of tracking your movements throughout Australia!" Snape declared as he walked into the house and threw his boots in different directions. Hermione shrugged. When he looked so scruffy and clad in Muggle jeans and a faded Led Zepellin T-shirt, she liked him better.

  
"Severus, I do not need a babysitter! I am already an adult witch."

  
"Of course, and that is why your mother sent me a hundred SMS, begging me to talk some sense into you! You know, one day the magic community simply might not find your location in another cave, into which you climbed for the poison of a blue-ringed octopus for an ointment against paralysis."

  
"Wait, you have a mobile phone ... And my mother has your number ?!"

  
"Grander, we are living in the twenty-first century, I follow Muggle technologies! Surprisingly, there are still people in the world who sincerely worry about you."

  
"Come on, just admit you wanted to see my poisonous garden," Hermione snorted, shaking her head in disbelief.

  
"Granger, have pity on the native tribes: you managed to drive mad all the surrounding islands. The fame of the crazy witch who climbed all the ravines, tested all the trees for strength, and collected all the surrounding poisons that could be found, goes far beyond the local magical community. Tell me, why are you looking for death so zealously?"

  
Hermione looked carefully at Snape, who was sprawled in the chair, and shrugged.

  
"I'm bored."

  
"Then join me in the Aurory."

  
"You and Auror department? What happened to the reclusive Professor Snape? Shall I check you for Polyjuice Potion?"

  
“Nonsense, Granger. As if you would be able to prove anything!” Severus smirked and leaned forward. “You need a challenge, you need something where you can prove yourself. The career of a housewife, as I managed to understand from your letters, is not to your liking. Therefore, come with me. I work in the Forbidden Potions department, and you will be more into field practice. Artifacts, secrets, poisons, crazy psychos, eager to dominate the world. Take up martial arts, Potter will help you brush your skills in dueling."

  
"Who are you and what did you do to Professor Snape?" Hermione arched an eyebrow and perched on the windowsill.

  
“What if I said that I also got bored of making the same potions and teaching the same ungrateful idiots? Potter saved my life. And he offered a job. The whole Aurory is afraid of me, there is not even anyone to talk to. I taught eighty percent of them and all of them are hopeless fools!"

  
"So you need a pleasant companion?"

  
"Granger, do you need a job?"

  
Hermione nodded.

  
"Deal then! Imagine how wonderful you will look in a dark blue robe!"

  
After these words, Granger fell off the windowsill. And Severus laughed heartily. His shock therapy proved to be successful.

  
So Hermione began to serve in Aurory. Yes, work was all she was looking for: there was danger, endless mysteries, deadly poisons, and tangled cases into which she threw herself like into a whirlpool.

  
She soon earned the title of the hottest head of the department. They feared her more than Snape, at least he could be persuaded and appealed to rationalism. Hermione wasn't listening to anyone. Having reached the rank of Lead Auror, she never gave up field practice, and in her free time, she began to train new recruits. The likes of Joe Wilkins looked at her with puppy adoration when she once again managed to survive, hanging by a hair's breadth from death.

  
Snape gave up lecturing her about the dangers of the field practice. But he nevertheless hung up the spell monitoring her movements. If she noticed, she didn't comment.

  
Hermione just stopped giving a damn about anything. And, as Severus assumed, her own life was of little interest to her.

  
Now, habitually, she wandered into a dark bar full of bikers and local rock musicians, ordered herself half a bottle of whiskey, and froze in anticipation of another gentleman for one night or a good street fight. She had long been on good terms with the London police, and the local lieutenant was always very happy when she sold him an unlucky drug dealer who fell on her hook. Oh yes, she did wear an Auror robe. And it did look good on her.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry looked expectantly at Snape, who was busy with some brown brew boiling in a copper cauldron. Potter knew from experience that it was deadly dangerous to distract Snape when he was working on potions. Although most of the time his former professor only pretended to count the seconds and the stirrers of the stirrer clockwise or anticlockwise, Harry preferred not to annoy him, just in case.

  
The fact that Potter had saved his life back in the Shack by unceremoniously ransacking Snape's pockets and shoving a bezoar deep in his throat hardly warmed their relationship of mutual dislike. Of course, they worked side by side and were forced to cross each others' paths three hundred times a day. Snape became a frequent visitor to the growing Potter family house. Attending the holidays on the occasion of the birth of another baby, then conducting a blessing ritual with Molly Weasley in honor of the acquisition of magic by a new toothless Potter or Weasley, Snape gradually learned to rejoice along with all the Potters and Weasleys, but he still grumbled and did not intend to stop anytime soon. Harry smiled in greeting and adjusted his glasses, annoying Severus even more. So they became friends - and it was a strong friendship built on mutual discontent.

  
"Potter, don't stand there, put your takeaway coffee on my table and tell me why the hell you stuck in my doorway," Snape grumbled, reducing the heat under the cauldron and straightening up.

  
Harry beamed at him and walked over to the table.

  
“I want to talk about Hermione, Professor. I am worried about her. Have you noticed anything suspicious?"

  
“How can I explain to you so as not to offend your incredible powers of observation, Mr. Potter? She rose to the rank of Lead Auror, beating even you in battle magic. Her mental shields are so strong that even I need at least twenty minutes to break through them. The Muggle police have hired her as a freelance consultant, and in her spare time, she helps them catch drug dealers. What else? She is rarely at home, preferring to hang out in bars and seek out affairs for one night. As a rule, by the morning, her suitors find themselves behind the bars of either magic or ordinary prison, depending on what she chose the night before. And the nickname Mad Fury was given to her not to underline her outstanding mental abilities. Is that what you wanted to know?"

  
“Oh, come on, Professor Snape, you perfectly understand what I mean. Although, to be honest, your tracking spell works wonders. Something strange is going on with Hermione,” Harry began, taking a sip of his drink. Snape sat down expectantly in front of him and delightedly pulled his take-out coffee to him - he and Potter had one passion for cheap swill. Much to Hermione's annoyance.

  
“So what is so strange about Miss Granger?"

  
"She seems to be playing some role, as if her life is a game of play-pretend and she doesn't like at all."

  
“How poetic, Potter, didn’t you think about writing books when you get tired of Aurory?"

  
Harry ignored his former professor's remarks and continued to think aloud.

  
"I'm already used to the fact that she risks her life on a daily basis, this is Hermione we are talking about, she was never an exemplary girl, this is something else. Every time Ginny and I invite her for holidays, she is polite and wary. She brings gifts and she gossips with Gin. She has long conversations about the latest Muggle news with Arthur and she praises Molly's cooking. Children adore her. They all dream of playing with her, and she keeps promising to take them to the Museum of Natural History and tell them everything about dinosaurs. She even made up with Ron!"

  
"But something still seems to be out of place."

  
"That's right. She celebrates Christmas with us as if she is being forced to, and at the same time, I see that she is desperate to be a part of a family. Hermione laughs with everyone, tells different Aurory tales, and then she just leaves Grimmauld and rushes into another adventure, each one more dangerous than the previous one."

"What do you want me to do, Potter? Hermione won't knit you all colorful scarves by the hearth. Can you even imagine her surrounded by pans and children?"

  
Harry choked on his coffee. Snape patted him sympathetically on the back so strong that his bones cracked. The professor's hand was still heavy.

  
"Honestly, you would fit more into the kitchen. I still remember that Shepherd's Pie that you and Molly baked for a bet during the last Christmas celebrations. And the children love you."

  
"Which is strange, isn't it?"

  
"It is," Potter shuddered.

  
“What would you have me do if Albus Severus is showing good Occlumency skills, and the only specialist to help him learn that particular skill you have available is me? Although I confess, I still don't understand why you hate your own son, so much, Potter."

  
Harry snorted: the argument over his middle son's name and the professor's grudges about it was a long-standing joke in his family.

  
"Oh, no need to retell this old story here: you were in the hospital, I did not hope that you would survive, and the ghost of Dumbledore repented of his own sins publicly and demanded that he kept the post of a Chief Wizard in Wizengamot posthumously."

  
"Yes, and you were so imbued with these events that you decided to reward your future offspring with the names of two people who barely tolerated each other all their lives?"

  
"Well, maybe I made a mistake..."

  
“Have I lived to see the day when bullheaded Harry Potter simply admitted that he could be wrong?"

  
"Come on, Professor, Al loves you, you have a close bond with him. Everyone is happy. I actually came here to talk about Hermione, and you keep jumping off the topic."

  
“Well, you admitted that Granger won't make a good wife. Working as a librarian is too boring for her. The ministry is mired in corruption, as we have already understood. What do you want from her?"

  
"I want my friend to come back to me!" Harry cried.

  
"Don't yell, Potter, you'll scare my experimental potion," Snape winced, but Harry continued waving his arms.

  
"You do not understand! Once a month, the three of us — she, Ron, and I — have a Friday binge. We order takeout, bring old movies, drink beer, play cards, and share news. Ron and I usually fall asleep after the third can of beer, and Hermione eats her ice cream until morning, watches Breakfast at Tiffany's, and bursts into tears. Can you imagine the Mad Fury crying over a melodrama? And then Saturday comes, and she turns into a badass Auror again."

  
“You know, Potter, even I had a teddy bear as a child. And I even loved him."

  
"Stop it, Professor. You understand perfectly well that she seems to forbid herself to be happy, therefore, whenever possible, she avoids family gatherings, avoids children, and has not been building relationships for more than one night for a long time. But she collects troubles, as I collected pebbles in my childhood."

  
“Well, everyone has the right to childhood traumas. Potter, calm down and put your wand down, I won't let the Cruciatus be thrown in my lab. Let's say you're right, so what do you want from me?"

"Talk to her. You are the only one Hermione is still able to listen to."

  
“I can already hear her colorful commentary, something like this: "Sod off, Severus, I don't need psychotherapy, and if Harry pokes his nose into my life again, I will... "

  
"... kick your asses! Both of you," Hermione finished her speech and entered the laboratory. “Criminal is in the interrogation room, potion-” she reached into her pocket and tossed the vial to Snape. “Here, take the potion. And if I hear you discussing my life behind my back, I will not look at the fact that we are friends, I will kill you too on the spot and I will slowly and with sadistic pleasure watch how the Auror Department is falling apart without you."

  
Without waiting for an answer, Hermione billowed her robes in a perfectly Snape fashion and disappeared.

"Now you agree with me?" Harry asked, muttering something about his friend's stubbornness.

  
Snape followed her departure with a thoughtful look: there was something in her behavior that caught his attention. And he didn't like what he saw there.


	3. Chapter 3

Snape watched carefully how, under the influence of one element or another, his experimental potion changed its color and properties, and pondered over Hermione's behavior. No, he had no doubt about her acquired omnipotence, as well as the fact that her explosive nature and talent for getting into trouble was simply not suitable for a quiet life.

  
Her colleagues deservedly respected her, they were afraid of her, they listened to her. Hermione Granger was a dangerous witch. In vain they did not believe him once when he tried to convince everyone of her dangerousness. Granger was dangerous. She set his robes on fire in her first year because she thought it right. She brewed an incredibly complex potion on the toilet floor and fooled the Slytherins right under Snape's very nose. She helped the criminal escape and saved a dangerous animal from its death. What else? She took advantage of the unfortunate Bulgarian Krum to make Ron Weasley jealous. She robbed a bank, tricked the goblins, and kidnapped a dragon. She decided to erase the memory of her own parents in order to save their lives. Ah yes, she also killed Bellatrix, injured half a dozen Death Eaters, and tried the Cruciatus for the first time. Hermione was a walking disaster, and that's just in her high school days.

  
Snape admired her.

  
He would not want to cross her path and be on the other side of her wand with the cunning spells flying out of its tip. When she was not busy with the Aurory, she disappeared into her own laboratory, inventing potions, tinctures, and ointments. Sometimes Hermione even condescended to ask his advice. Sometimes she invited him to join her in one experiment or another. Harry Potter didn't lie when he said that Snape was one of the few people Granger still listened to. They had a strange friendship built on silence and common interests.

  
Stirring the potion eighty times counterclockwise and adding one clockwise rotation every ten seconds, Snape tried to come to some conclusions, but the conclusions continued to elude him. He knew Hermione so well, yet she rarely spoke about her life behind the Auror's Department. Especially about her life after the War. Yet something did not escape Severus' attention.

  
Granger was incredibly lonely and didn't seem to care at all. She wrapped herself in solitude, as he once wrapped himself in black robes. She respected him, and, of course, she was known as a stubborn sociopath among her colleagues. She paid no attention to gossips flying around her persona. Hermione would billow her robes, she would send a couple of jinxes to the gossipers and disappear to the kitchen, where she would watch the water boil.

  
Often Snape would share a cup of spiced tea with her, trying to offer his support as best he could.

  
“The Indians believe that cinnamon warms the soul,” he used to say, composing his own version of masala tea and inviting her to join.

  
“Sibylla Trelawney insisted that I had no soul,” Hermione replied with a wry smile, and blissfully sipped the aromatic drink. "Not that I care."

  
"Even Voldemort once had a soul," Snape joked grimly.

  
“You know, sometimes it seems to me that I could become much worse than Voldemort if I wanted to."

Granger's eyes burning with determination told Snape that she hadn't been lying. She was running from something, hiding in hidden pain, accepting no help, and Severus understood her. He understood, therefore he did not bother with questions. In the end, the Mad Fury was able to deal with her own life.

  
Putting the potion under stasis, Severus was about to tackle his unfinished report, but the door to the lab swung open and an angry Granger appeared in the doorway.

  
"Severus, help me, some kind of dark potion spilled over me. It hurts like hell, do something."

  
"Come in here, take off this disaster you call your blouse," Snape ordered, grabbing the pain medication and preparing for the examination.

  
Ancient artifacts were often protected with poisons or paralyzing potions, so he was not surprised when he saw the burn on Granger's stomach.

  
“Here, drink this,” he muttered, recognizing that the poison that had hurt her was a mixture of ivy, juniper, and henbane. It was easily curable but painful to the point of impossibility.

  
"I'm allergic to turmeric, remember? And turmeric is the main ingredient in your pain-relieving potion,” Hermione grumbled, wincing.

  
"Damn it! Then we need the opiates."

  
As Snape rummaged through his shelves, looking for the right jar, the glamor that Granger used to hide her old scars disappeared. Snape cursed colorfully when he saw what scars she was hiding under that spell.

  
Of course, he was aware of the curse that Dolokhov had cursed her in the past, but he did not even suspect that everything was so serious. Purple scars crossed Granger's right side, zigzagging under the hem of her jeans and popping up on her left side. The scars branched her like the branches of a chimeric plant, spreading across her belly and chest. The curse was approaching her heart.

  
Snape applied the opium ointment, while Granger watched his movements closely, anticipating an outburst of anger. That such would follow, she had no doubt.

  
Severus healed her burns very carefully. He straightened up, wiped his hands, tossed the rag aside, and stared at Hermione.

  
"What is the growth rate?"

  
"An inch per year."

  
"Don't you want to tell me something?"

  
And then Hermione burst out. She jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain, and strode through the laboratory.

  
"To tell you what? You understand as well as I what will happen when this infection gets to the heart. I have a maximum of three years left, and the last thing I want to do is throw a pity party. I have tried all the means and methods, nothing helps. Therefore, I decided to just live. Overtake my life if I can. To do as much as possible. Outrun my time."

  
"Why didn't you come to me earlier? Why, tell me, crazy witch, why do you think you are omnipotent and nobody wants you?" Severus snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

  
"Because this is true! I don’t want you to give me a commemoration ahead of time, and I don’t want to forbid you to live because of me."

  
"So you grab onto the most dangerous tasks, hoping that you will not live up to see your death?!"

  
“You wouldn't want to be pitied either. In addition, the life of Mad Fury is, rather, just another reason for gossip."

  
Snape came close to Hermione and grabbed her by the shoulders.

  
“I think you just like to revel in your own suffering instead of asking for help."

  
"Let me go! Nobody cares about me. Do your job, Snape, and let me finish mine."

  
“Look at me, Granger. And don't make me question your intelligence.” Severus squeezed her shoulders as she closed her eyes, avoiding his gaze. "The fact that every year I rejected your offer to have drunken sex with you does not mean that I do not care about you. Just the opposite. I want our first intimate relationship not to come from self-pity or despair. I want to make love to you because I want to make you mine, and you want to belong to me, I want this to be mutual. So, I will not tolerate semitones."

  
"Why couldn't you just tell it to me?" Hermione whispered, burying her forehead against his shoulder. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

  
“Because we're both idiots, as it turns out."

  
Hermione yawned and began to sink slowly to the floor as the opiates took effect. Severus lifted her into his arms, casting a protective charm on the lab along the way.

  
"Let's go take you home. You need to have a good rest, and after that, we will have a long talk."

  
Of course, Severus had been to Hermione's home before, so her shields let him in without much resistance. He shook his head at such trust from her part. Walking into her bedroom, he carefully lowered her onto the bed and was about to leave, when she grabbed his hand and muttered sleepily, pulling him towards her:

  
"Don't go, please stay with me. Nobody held me for so long. I just want to be held."

  
Severus nodded. He transfigured her jeans and T-shirt into flannel pajamas, navy blue with fluffy clouds all across, and snorted as Hermione turned his own clothes into a Slytherin silk set.

  
“What kind of perversion is this, Hermione?"

  
"I always thought that green would suit you."

  
When he lay down next to her, she snuggled closer, wrapping around him like a liana.

  
“Severus, I don’t want to die..."

  
"Who says you are going to die?" Snape wrapped his arms around her and began stroking her back. “You stupid, stupid witch. My witch. Now, go back to sleep."


	4. Chapter 4

Morning greeted Snape with rain drumming against the windows, the ringing warble of a cell phone, and the emptiness of her apartment. Of course, he did not doubt that Granger would disappear with the dawn. She wasn't a relationship type of woman. She even visited her parents once a year at Christmas, after the stubborn persuasion of Mrs. Granger, who would have brought the Dark Lord to his knees with her strong will. If anyone was able to influence the Mad Fury, it was her mother - as stubborn and unyielding as Hermione herself.

  
Snape knew that his whimsical witch was still within Britain, and that she felt better after yesterday's encounter with the curse, and that he himself did not have time for empty thoughts. A serious matter awaited him, he was going to save her life. Hermione was in for a serious thrashing.

  
Snape made himself a cup of black coffee without sugar, sat down at the table, and thought hard. He was not eager to inflict scandals on her, he only wanted to save her life. The life which Granger considered worthless and meaningless. Not long ago, Snape had thought the same way about his own pathetic semblance of existence. And it was she who managed to convince him otherwise.

  
After finishing his coffee and tidying up, Severus made his way back to the lab. Hermione couldn't hide from him forever. And even then, he understood in ancient rituals much more than her. Sooner or later, she would need his help, no matter what invincible heroine she played. And then he would be able to scold her for her impenetrable stubbornness. The problem was that Snape didn't have time to wait.

  
He slammed the door angrily and went in search of her.

  
And Granger... She, as predicted, was chasing the Dark Potioneers all across the Diagon Alley. She had no time for questions of ethics and morality. Service awaited her. The Aurory did not endure any delay. As for last night, Granger drove the thought of it away, so as not to remember, so as not to give herself a weakness to feel the taste of life.

  
There was no lovemaking between them the last night. She simply fell asleep in Severus's arms and slept until morning. This simple act of sleeping peacefully had not happened to her for a very long time. The first time after defeating Voldemort, she still knew how to sleep without waking up three times a night, but then her nightmares returned, the expectation of inevitability returned, so Hermione got into the Aurory. She was tired of running away from every shadow and waiting for a new Voldemort in every dark alley. She decided to become the force that others would fear. And it was this force that pushed her forward and forward.

  
Hermione had long forgotten what it was like to live for herself. Life never gave her the right to her own desires. At first, she fought for Harry and Ron, then she protected her parents, after the War, she became the leading Auror. Only in rare moments, just like that last night, she wanted to rely on someone wiser and stronger, someone to whom she wanted to listen. With whom, at least for a couple of hours, she would be able to forget about her own illness, and about the Dark Curses, and about the fact that the whole world did not care about her, and about the fact that this very world remembered her only when it was necessary to kick another Voldemort's arse. But could she impose her persona on Severus, with his high morality, and a sense of duty?

  
After the last night, Hermione felt the forgotten desire to live. Did Severus feel it? Wouldn't it be easier to squeeze everything out of her remaining time, do as much as possible and go beyond the Veil? 

  
Severus blocked the hex that flew at Hermione and dragged her over the nearest wall.

  
"I can't believe it: Severus Snape and field practice!"

  
“Losing your knack, Granger, you nearly got your wand arm blown off!"

  
"Not a big deal! I am an ambidexter, remember? What the hell are you doing here?"

  
"We haven't finished yet! And after you left me at dawn, I just have to demand an explanation."

  
“I didn't seduce you last night, Severus. I assure you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” Hermione snapped, firing back with aptly launched curses. Snape kept up.

  
"Why are you doing this? We can just try, Hermione, try and stop this crazy race."

  
"I don’t want to, you must understand! I go my own way, you go yours too. Who will benefit from this relationship?"

  
"You will. This is not the kind of life you want, Granger!"

  
"Are you sure you have the right to lecture me?"

  
"I owe you my life," Severus said slowly. Hermione froze, wand raised in the air.

  
"What are you talking about?"

  
"Do you remember when our expedition got stuck in the Jordan? And I got covered in the red dust covering your retreat? Do you remember what happened next?"

  
"Of course, I do," Hermione snorted, simply punching the evil wizard who came too close, "Not a single spell, not a single potion was able to help you. You imagined yourself to be omnipotent, so you faced that magical dust storm. And then your whole body was covered with abscesses, which burst and smelled terribly. Outbreaks of uncontrolled magic drove away all the healers within a couple of miles. Nobody could help you."

  
"Do you remember what you did?"

  
"I came and took you into my arms. How could I have left Britain's finest Potions Master to die in the Jordan desert?"

  
“You tamed me like wild animals or dangerous artifacts are tamed. And you succeded."

  
"So what am I to you, Severus: a wild beast or a dark artifact?"

  
"You are a woman who has been dear to me for a very long time. You shouldn't think that everyone here doesn't care about you. Even Potter worries about you."

  
“Of course, and that's why Harry sent you to me — because he doesn't know how he can live without a nanny, does he?”

  
"Hermione, stop it!" Snape was beginning to lose his patience, so he just grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. "Listen to me! Leave the Aurory to Potter, he can handle it, trust me. Come with me. We will visit all the ancient temples, find ancient talismans, explore the sources of power. We can save you. I don’t want to question your intelligence, but you don’t understand the ancient rituals at all, so you just need someone like me."

  
"What if we fail?"

  
"If we do not succeed, then we will just live the three years allotted to you. We will have the life you have always longed to have. What do you want? Carnivals in a small American town? Traveling all over Asia? Exploring Europe? Seeing the sunrise over Santorini and the sunset over the Grand Canyon?"

  
“Too good to be true."

  
"No, Auror Granger, you just have to dare to live," Severus replied and held out his hand to her. After some hesitation, Hermione accepted it.


	5. Chapter 5

By promising Hermione a life devoid of rules and conventions, Severus was not lying. Over the past year, they lived the future they have always dreamed of. The sunset over the Grand Canyon was mesmerizing with its simplicity and incredible power. Hermione stood at the very edge of the rock and laughed, arms outstretched.

  
"Who would have thought that we would be able to hitchhike all of the States! We went to the burger-eating festival and you managed to win the first prize! And you can't tell!"

  
"I can't tall that you are a country singer either. Still, nevertheless, the carnival in Texas brought you victory in the competition and the opportunity to air your song on the radio. Country music with a British accent, I like it."

  
“This was all before we rented a caravan and drove all across the States,” Hermione agreed, turning to Snape. He just smiled with the corner of his lips: a fleeting grin, which he saved especially for her.

  
He gave her the happiness of being herself, she gave him the childhood he never had. They attended every summer carnival in America they could find. Forgetting about the rules and conventions, they rode the rides, shot at the shooting range, took stupid photos in the photo booth, Hermione stole cotton candy from Snape, he beat her at the shooting range. They were happy with that simple happiness that only people who lost the meaning of life could understand.

  
They celebrated the New Year in China, admiring the play of fireworks and making wishes upon magic coins. They spent Samhain in Scotland, burning magical herbs and making peace with their own past. The summer solstice met them on the shores of Santorini, and Hermione would never forget that incredible sunrise.

  
They traveled all over Europe enjoying coffee, gourmet meals, and architectural monuments. They spent many fascinating hours wandering through museums and art galleries, arguing with tour guides, and seeking out magical communities.

  
The magic of each new place they discovered fascinated Hermione with a kind of childish spontaneity.

  
And then there was the East, there was a desert, illuminated only by stars. There were scrambled eggs in the sand. Songs of the Imam. Walking with the Bedouins. And new hopes.

  
Severus noticed that Hermione's scar had stopped growing, but chose not to give her false hopes. He fought for her. He fought alongside her. They managed to figure out what kind of magic the Death Eaters had woven into their curses. The Celts were very responsive and even offered Hermione to stay for treatment in their special place, which obeyed the strict laws of antiquity and astronomical luminaries. Hermione thanked them politely and rushed on. Severus followed her.

  
In Saudi Arabia, after consulting with local magicians who trusted the magic of the genies more than the magic of wand, Snape and Granger figured out how to localize the curse.

  
Hermione pretended to be terribly happy with such a discovery, but in fact... in fact, peering into the sky above the desert, she whispered to Severus, barely pronouncing the words:

  
"Let's leave everything as it is. We will conclude our trip with the Grand Canyon, see the States and meet that famous sunset. And let the curse do its job."

  
Severus lifted her chin and looked into her eyes; he knew the answer without any Legillimency:

  
“Mad Fury can't give up and lose, can she? You protected everyone, but who will protect you, who will help you rise when you fall again?"

  
“I had to become invincible, Severus, I finally made the world reckon with me! I cannot lie as an unconscious vegetable in the hospital and humbly wait for my end."

  
"No, it's not about the hospital, not about your colleagues, not even about me. You're scared. And that's okay. I will not let you go to India alone. I also have one Dark Curse that poisons my life and interferes with my magic.” With these words, Severus rolled up his sleeve and showed her the Mark, slightly faded around the edges, but still nourished by his power. Hermione frowned.

  
"Why are you doing this? You can leave me here, or we can go back to Britain and drive the criminals on. I lived brightly, I want to die even more brightly."

  
"Stop telling me that kind of nonsense, Granger, it doesn't suit you! And even if we do not succeed, I will complete our trip around the world with you, we will do a bunch of more stupid things, like getting married for example, and leave the whole of Britain speechless. I will catch you _if_ you fall. _If,_ not _when_ , Granger."

  
So they went to the banks of the Ganges to carry out the last most serious ritual: to separate dark magic from the light one.

  
Morning came, fishermen wandered to the river. Hindus devoted to their faith offered prayers to the sun, a girl of about five years old lowered a wreath of bright orange flowers into the water and smiled at the curly woman and the tall black-haired man who climbed into the very depths of the Ganges.

  
Dawn spread slowly, illuminating the rooftops and the pale features of Hermione who stood waist-deep in water and stared at Snape with huge eyes full of disbelief. Magic sparkled, imbued with the power of other people's prayers and the confidence of Britain's smartest witch. The blood was healed from foreign interference. Chakras glowed, restoring balance. The darkness within her scars and his Mark were dissipated. A new day was dawning.

  
Severus hadn't seen Hermione's tears often, but that dawn they were tears of happiness.

  
And then they drank the famous masala tea and remembered the saying that cinnamon warmed the soul.

****

Spreading her arms over the Grand Canyon, Hermione laughed, and the wind picked up her laugh, carrying it higher, and higher. The setting sun kissed the rocks and painted Colorado the colors of Gryffindor.

  
"I'm happy," Hermione whispered.

  
"This was the meaning of our crazy journey."

  
"To dance the tango over an abyss?"

  
"To learn to move on."

  
"You saved me."

  
"No, I helped you to believe in yourself."

  
"So what next?"

  
"Let's celebrate Christmas at home?"

  
"If Harry hasn't destroyed the Aurory yet, let's go to Tanzania? I know they have unique plants and magical communities there."

  
"Have you stopped outrunning your life, Granger?"

  
Hermione turned to face Severus and put her arms around his neck.

  
"I want to keep up with my life. Besides, you still haven't proposed to me."

  
"Will you say "yes"?"

  
"Of course I will, you impossible man! We both love to shock the public and to violate the laws of the universe."

"I love you, witch."

"And I love you, Severus."

The end. 


End file.
